What the Sunday of summer reminds me each year

August always feels like some kind of in-between, suspended in a dream state, that I both enjoy but that also threatens to unravel my composure when it feels like everything is just … slow. Standing still. Neither here nor there. 

Thankfully, the reminder that all things take time and arrive in their exact right season always comes on its winding path back to me, this year in the form of bouquets from our cut flower garden. On a whim last year I designed and installed a little space of gravel, a bistro table and chairs, and four large cedar boxes to house flowers (and a little veg), to accompany a growing number of potted dahlias I am sorting out how to grow (and somehow store through winter). Last year we had very little to cut and play with whereas this summer, we have tons of dahlias, zinnias, and cosmos and I get a bouquet (or two) a week. It’s been pretty magical. 

I have learned enough this year that I know what else to try next year, and am grateful to myself for the vision I held last year and had the energy I garnered to orchestrate the whole thing, even if it was going to take some time to literally see the flowers. 

I am a big (and impatient) dreamer but my home and gardens, always unfinished, always evolving, remind me that growth literally takes time. Years, even. What an act of faith to start anything, knowing that in the era of overnight deliveries and 30 second sound bites, we will have to weather seasons and lessons to see the fruits of our labors. 

It’s not always easy, but it helps when you can look around you and see that what you have now is the result of the effort a past version of yourself made. 

I was once in my early thirties with some delusional ideas of how and where I wanted to work and live my wider life and I’ve built something that, while I still reach and yearn and grow, offers me the sanctuary I dreamed of. Even if nothing changes or evolves ever again, I’ve come so far. 

What a gift to remember that I called in this future a long time ago and I get to enjoy it, even if a piece of my mind and heart is working on the next big step. As Nicole Walters says, “nothing is missing.”